


At Every Occasion

by Elcee the Porcupine (LC_Rodriguez)



Category: Sing (2016)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2018-09-20 23:20:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9520538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LC_Rodriguez/pseuds/Elcee%20the%20Porcupine
Summary: When news gets out that a missing singer has been found dead, what was meant to be a celebratory dinner for the New Moon Theater crew becomes a different type of gathering. Something that might affect them more deeply than they would wonder.





	1. Chapter 1

Happiness was abundant at a café that night. The patrons saw the familiar faces stepping through the doors, talking to one another as to what to order for themselves. The artists and director from the impromptu show that went on to the construction of the New Moon Theater, intended to spend the night in celebration of their inspiring achievement.

A table for six had been decided. After several minutes of attending new fans and aspiring artists with small interviews and even autographs, the other patrons continued what they were doing (save for some prying young eyes who continued to watch from a respectful distance), leaving the crew to make what they sat there for.

“May I?” Buster lifted his paper cup serving of green tea. “A toast to… rekindled hopes and dreams! To all of you who gave so much, whose voices you lent, to make this possible. To the art that we make so others can experience our love. From my passion, to yours!”

Everyone proceeded to tap their cups together, lack of sound notwithstanding; a mundane symbol among them, as a reminder to one thing: the thought that counts. Conversations at the table from then on ranged from casual banter, to hints of life stories and daily encounters. However, Meena had yet to contribute to the conversation, which, though attributed to her shyness, in reality meant lingering thoughts since hearing Buster’s speech… and the following weeks during the theater reconstruction. A feeling among the others that nestled uncomfortably in her mind since, which for once, had very little to do with shyness.

Another sudden touch made Meena shudder. Rosita tapped her on the shoulder to bring her attention.

“What about you, Meena? What have you been doing these few days?” she had asked her gently. Meena stammered slightly in her place, though with no indication of distress.

“Um… What-what were we talking about?” Meena stuttered.

“Well, Ash was just mentioning how this ‘Jake’ from the recording studio told her he’s going to find a drummer for her song. That…” Rosita took a moment to look back at Ash’s somewhat annoyed stare towards her own coffee, “... he would let her know in about two weeks.”

“Oh! Heh…!” Meena replied in sympathy. Ash snorted and rolled her eyes.

“I swear, he’s like… Buster without any of the charm,” she quipped, taking a sip of her cup.

“Oh, ya! He sounds tot-ally boring!” Gunter commented with a volume that allowed the other customers to hear the ensuing laughter from the table. Johnny looked at Buster with a smile as he let out flattered chuckles that seemed louder than they would.

Meena smiled, but noted that Rosita waited for a response. Meena hummed and pondered on interesting things that happened during the week. But as she opened her mouth to speak of one she remembered, her mind drifted back to the previous thoughts. The joy she felt seconds ago only lasted for a moment, and felt it replaced with a sliver of confusion, and in some strange way, concern. She glanced to see Rosita noticed her go quiet with an unmistakable questioning look she would give to children that tried to hide something, prompting a defeated sigh in the face of having to change the conversation.

“Actually…” Meena said truthfully, “I’ve… been wondering.” Meena breathed gently, while she searched for the words, thinking to herself that she wouldn’t want to ruin their special evening with her ever-present worry. “We haven’t really heard from Mike in a while… have we?”

Everyone lifted their heads, letting their previous enjoyment fade, soon focusing on an evident realization that something was missing, though not given much thought until then. Meena folded her ears inwards while she looked at the crew exchanging awkward glances with each other, her feelings darting back into concealed shame. Blinking for a moment, Rosita’s brow furrowed.

“… Mike?” She recalled the crooning, insulting mouse who had been so focused on the competition that he disrespected his fellow competitors. A chip on her shoulder that grew sour each time he mocked not only her, but the younger contestants.

“The… mouse?” With a squint, Ash struggled to remember. With all the times he ensured that guy was to be avoided as much as possible, she had practically lost all memory of him. All she knew of him vividly was back in the show they had all performed when the theater was torn down, which she had liked, but hasn’t thought of much.

“It was him wasn’t it? I didn’t realize he left.” Johnny, much like Ash, had not known much about the mouse, content with keeping to his own devices while the young ape had given more focus to his own paternal struggles. He hardly recalled the song the mouse performed during his father’s unexpected, yet ultimately welcomed visit to finally received a crucial time of love and validation.

Buster drummed his fingers against the table, brow furrowed and jaw slacked. Quietly, he recalled the interactions he had with the mouse. Mike, whose talent and looks he had praised so fondly. Who impressed him with every step of the way from his charisma to his voice. Who showed so much passion in his comeback performance that left him yearning for at least one encore. Whom he personally witnessed being choked between the claws of a gigantic bear if he didn’t fork over the prize money… A dreadful sense made his way into his tightening chest, realizing he never heard from him again.

“He…” Buster cleared his throat, “He never even showed up for the reopening, now-now that I think about it!”

“Didn’t he leave after the show or something?” Ash said.

“But then why wasn’t he there with us when we got on stage and bowed with us?”

“Ya, zat is strange, not wanting to hear ze cheers from ze loving fans!”

“Well, I think he just didn’t want to share the spotlight with us!” Rosita replied somewhat bitterly, “If he would rather do everything by himself, that no one ever pays attention to anyone except him, to the point where he denies his own opportunities, then good riddance!”

Ash let out a laid-back ‘hmph’ in agreement, Rosita’s statement going largely unrefuted but sparking a discussion at the table on who the group believed Mike to be. Meena remained quiet throughout this discussion, and thought about Mike herself. The very mouse who denied her chance to properly audition the first time, and spent every step of the way insulting her, belittling her, calling her names, lashing out, which only served to deepen her insecurities. His song that made her stiffen up afterwards when she went to change her outfit, wondering if she could ever measure up to THAT. Who last time she saw, was watching her go on stage… Finding herself wondering why she kept thinking about him when she could no longer find him.

Unbeknownst to her, Buster was mostly quiet too. He continued to wonder about that interesting mouse… before he felt his phone vibrate in his trousers.

“Oh! One second!” He lifted an index finger towards the others in order to take the call. Buster put on his typical jolly face. “Y’ello?” He said in his usual showman persona. “Why, yes, I am Buster Moon! How can I help you with, sir?” He replied to the caller. The discussion on the table faded into another topic.

None of them except Meena noticed his slow change in demeanor as he listened to the call, dropping his cheery act. Buster hastily turned to face away from the others.

“I’m—I’m sorry?”

Meena curiously leaned in. Her ears folded slightly more.

“What about ‘one of my performers?’” Buster listened closely to the call. Meena gulped and took a quick glance at the others on the table upon hearing this, but remained patient. Buster seemed to fidget more uncomfortably in his seat, and soon his ears drooped. His heartbeat increased so quickly in that fearful distress he felt ten years ago, as well as the time his theater collapsed. With a deep breath, he attempted to respond to the words being spoken on the other line, gathering up composure that he was quickly losing.

“What’s… What’s wrong with Mike?”

Meena’s eyes instantly widened, and barely suppressed a gasp. This time, Johnny turned to face the koala and the elephant. It wasn’t long before Rosita, Ash, and Gunter focused on the increasingly upset showman, listening attentively as he instinctively started to curl up. The group watched him finally jolt. Buster felt his head spinning, holding on to the back of his chair so as to keep himself from collapsing. Johhny and Meena got up and rushed to his side. His phone remained glued to his ear while mumbling something quietly to the caller. Slowly, he set the phone down, and brought his hand to his temple while blinking rapidly.

“Buster??” Meena tried to reach for the shocked koala, his eyes watering up and his throat choking up. Buster took a deep breath, then a gulp. He straightened his back and addressed the concerned eyes of the group with what little composure he had left.

“E-everyone, uh…” he closed his mouth tightly and twiddled his fingers, “I’ve… I-I think… I just r-received… we’ve-we’ve-ve got some, b-bad news.” Buster cursed all his stuttering of it. Everyone stared silently, eyes widened or otherwise staring with brows furrowed. Buster inhaled through his nose, thinking, pondering, producing a tight frown before relaxing in defeat. With no way out, he said it as it was.

“Mike is dead.”


	2. Chapter 2

Within minutes, the doors of the café nearly slammed open, bringing out clamored voices and murmurs. The patrons of the cafe watched the artists’ demeanor change so abruptly, prompting whispers to what could have provoked them. The crew walked quickly behind Buster, making their way across the sidewalk to wait for the ride Buster had arranged. He was hastily speaking through multiple lines on his phone with a deep frown on his face.

“Buster, c’mon, what the heck did they say?!” Ash stomped right behind him, her voice loud with incredulity and sporting a demanding glare.

“How did he die?” Johnny asked almost as loudly right next to Buster, but his voice cracked and his shoulders raised stiff. Behind them, Gunter’s eyes welled up in earnest, mumbling to himself in German. Rosita closed her mouth with a hand and held her elbow with the other, staring into the floor when the gravity sunk in at once. Meena sulked behind the group, her ears completely folded inwards and held her arms across her body. She swallowed a hardened lump, and blinked off a dam that was sure to burst.

Buster’s frown deepened as he was bombarded with uncomfortable questions by the two teens. He kept the phone in his ear, though the caller had since hung up. Buster and the others stopped at a sidewalk corner. He wearily let his phone down, to register his crew —his friends’ shock clearly. Buster took a breath, while the others look attentively.

“Eddie’s on his way to pick us up,” he informed, “he’s gonna take me to the, uh- H-hospital to speak with the police. You guys… He’s gonna drop each of you off back to your homes, okay? There’s-There’s nothing to worry about. I just want you all to go home, back-back to your loved ones?” He winced, “… Okay, just… I’ll take care of this, then I’ll let you know…”

The group took a moment to exchange quick glances. Both Meena and Rosita looked at each other and nodded, while Gunter gave no response, seemingly staring at empty space.

Ash turned back to Buster, her glare unfaltered. “Well, I’VE got all night!” she threw her arms out her sides. “Just what the heck’s going on?”

“Ash, look-okay,” Buster brought two fingers up his eyes, “there’s, there’s really nothing YOU need to worry about now, I’ll let you KNOW, what’s, what’s going on, okay? I’ll keep you updated! I just… don’t think you should be more involved in this than you probably should!” Buster hadn’t felt his tone rise to a level of loud exasperation since the theater’s destruction. “Just let me handle it. You don’t have to pry into it.”

Ash groaned, turning to her side and flaring her own nose. Johnny watched her stare at the ground, her glare becoming a venomous scowl. He turned towards the anxious koala.

“We’re sorry… We just want know if this isn’t some kind of… hoax. A-a rumor, like someone’s tryin’ to pull some awful prank on us.”

“And it’s NOT funny,” Ash added with a low —wavering— voice.

Buster silently mulled their words over, and lifted his sight. He pushed aside a pinch of his stress and shock to ponder the very moment he and his crew are in. Of course. They wouldn’t want to believe something like this. He wouldn’t believe it if he could. He just couldn’t find the will to let the others see what he’s forced to, so he provided no answers.

A minivan came into view, and pulled over to where the crew was standing. The driver looked out the window.

“Buster… !” Eddie exclaimed in worry, while opening the doors to allow everyone in. He was out of breath, but he allowed to breathe in relief. “ … Okay… You’re okay… Everyone’s okay…” he paused for a moment, “Should we go…?”

“Yes,” Buster responded in a low voice as he sat in the seat next to him, ears dropping further, “let’s go.”

Eddie looked at Buster for a few moments, then looked back to see the rest of the crew getting in. Rosita, Meena, and Gunter squeezed themselves in the back, while Johnny and Ash sat along with a concerned Ms. Crawly. Earlier, the crew laughed at their placement in the van when Eddie first dropped them off a few blocks, but his heart sank at the sight of everyone’s downcast, scared expressions. Eddie’s anxiety felt like sparking back, especially when the day started out so happy for everyone. Nevertheless, Eddie controlled his breath, took a quick glance at his friend, then looked ahead and shifted on drive.

The car began to accelerate, first heading towards the residential area where Meena lived. No one said anything through the entire ride. Ash leaned close to the window with her back turned to everyone, and stared outside. Johnny slumped forward rubbing his temple, and Miss Crawly placed a comforting hand on his side. Between Rosita and Gunter, Meena dragged her palms over her knees and tried to keep the wetness in her eyes from flowing. She let out an instinctive, but loud *sniff*, and leaned to press her forehead onto the the back of the seat in front of her.

Eddie pulled up to a suburban area. Rosita gently shook Meena out of her position.

“We’re almost to your home, ok?” she quietly told her, while holding the elephant’s arm. Meena looked out the window with wet eyelids, and faintly saw the streetlights illuminating a familiar, safe environment. Her own fear was only moderately subsided.

Eddie soon pulled up to Meena’s house. At the sound of the engine, Meena’s mother got out of the living room and unlocked the front door to welcome her daughter with a smile. She opened the door, only to see Meena exiting the car with a forlorn stance. She placed a hand on her chest.

Before heading back to her house, Meena looked back at Buster when he rolled down his window.

“If you want to,” Buster’s voice almost reached a whisper, “I can give you a text, so…I can explain better, when I… get to the bottom of this. Not to keep you in the dark…”

Meena glanced back at her worried mother, who began to slowly walk down the path of their front yard. She looked down. “No…” her voice wavered as she spoke. “I-I-I don’t t-think I want to know… not yet.”

Buster looked at her, then nodded. “Alright, I understand… have a good night.” He rolled his window back up, and Meena watched the car move down the suburban street, and then drive away. As soon as the car was out of sight, Meena looked over her shoulder, and her mother was standing next to her. Meena looked at her widened stare, and let in another instinctive *sniff*.

“Oh, Meena…!” her mother held her close while she led Meena back to the house. “What happened? Are you hurt? Was somebody hurt?”

Meena winced at the last sentence. She took a breath to respond, but it came out like an incoming sob. She breathed out, and swallowed.

“M-mom, I… Okay.” Meena nearly whimpered. “I’m okay…” she let out an unintentional hiccup. “I-I’ll tell you. I j-just… I need to t-think about this-s.”

“Of course, of course…” Her mother gently rubbed circles on Meena’s back as they stepped into the house, and she closed the door.

At this point, Meena let out the first conflicted tear.


	3. Chapter 3

Rosita looked wistfully from the rear window at Meena and her mother. She set down on her seat and held her arms while biting her lip. Good riddance, she’d said. With all that she thought and said earlier, she felt like smacking her forehead. Taking a quick breath, she looked to her side to find an almost catatonic Gunter. He stared ahead with glassy eyes, the body he was so proud of trying to curl up on itself. Her ears drooped at the sight of her partner in such a state. She reached out to try and place a comforting hand on his shoulder, but instead pulled back.

He suddenly spoke. “Busteeer?” He pleaded in a more strained and quiet voice than expected, “… I want to go… to ze train station… please?”

Buster, Rosita, Johnny, and Ms. Crawly looked at Gunter’s curled body in sympathy, while Ash sank in her seat. Buster turned to Eddie and whispered something to him, and the car promptly took a quick detour downtown. At this point, Rosita placed her hand on his shoulder without hesitation. His ears drooped further at the contact, but his body uncurl end slightly.

The car stopped next to the train station. While they politely cleared his path for an easier exit, Gunter quietly let himself out. He walked with a slump towards the station, without a single word, and without looking back. The animals stared at him as he walked. The crew watched him go, the pit in their stomachs growing bigger with demoralization.

The car took off again to head for another suburban area. Rosita bent forwards and brought her hands to her cheeks until the ride eventually reached her own house. Exiting the car herself, she saw the remaining youngsters watching her leave. Her shock was now set in with instinct. She glanced down at her purse to her phone, ensuring to have it charged with just enough battery to use for the night.

“I’ll call if you need to be informed,” Buster told her, “For now… please stay with your family,” he added.

“Thank you,” Rosita nodded, then headed for her front door. She released a long breath, then slouched as she opened the door. Stepping quietly, then quickly into the house and tracking her mind towards her bedroom, her body felt heavier. Rosita didn’t notice her husband standing beside the table, greeting her as she walked by.

“Kids are in bed, honey! How was your night—?” Norman paused upon taking a closer look at his wife. He shifted uncomfortably. “… Uhh, not good?”

Rosita was already hastily climbing the stairs when she stopped in her tracks. “Norman…” She watched him approach her, and she took his hand, “Something… bad came up,” she held back a shudder, “and I m-may have said some things… Come with me, and I’ll tell you in detail.”

Norman’s eyes widened with multiple alarming questions. Looking at his wife’s increasing discomfort and the subtle plea he recognized in her eyes since they first got together, he sighed and nodded. “Alright, Rosita. I’m listening.”

* * *

 

Elsewhere, the crew’s minivan pulled up to an apartment building. Ash wasted no time in hopping out without a second thought.

“Have a good night, Ash. Don’t worry about it.” Buster’s increasingly tired voice came as monotonous; the consequence being that Ash, by impulse, refused to listen to it.

Only then, Ash didn’t move. Once the car was out of sight, she stared at the looming door that beckoned her to what should be the safety and comfort of her home. She couldn’t shake off the feeling that something might happen if she took another step, or even turned around. Ash swallowed a smudge of sickness in her chest. The streetlights couldn’t hide the leering darkness she felt down her spine to the tips of her quills. Everything seemed more quiet than ever before. Her left hand gripped the keys to her own apartment, the other, her phone.

Johnny caught a glimpse of Ash’s rigid form while the car turned a corner. He leaned over to the front seat.

“You sure you don’t want us to come?” Johnny asked timidly.

“Uhmh…” Buster mumbled tiredly and blinked. “Well the thing is…” he joined his hands together with his index fingers pointing up. “This is my… burden, uh, is that the word…?”

“Burden?” Johnny pried, “We can have your back, no need to face this by yourself or anythin—”

“Okay, okay, that’s not what I meant.” Buster breathed sharply through his nostrils. “What I mean is… uh, I-I don’t want anything else to happen. To you guys.” Buster’s words were stuck. Johnny furrowed a brow, and gently sunk back to his seat. He and Ms. Crawly looked at each other.

“Um, Buster, what’re you scared of?” Eddie whispered to him. It took several moments for Buster to respond. By then, they were getting close to the parking lot Johnny’s truck was in.

“Lots of things right now,” Buster stated quietly, but Johnny had a sharp ear. “I’m worried that however this happened… it wants to bite me, and m-maybe it could be bad for everyone else. I mean, they contacted ME about t-this.” Buster steadied his breath. “That’s why I sent everyone home. I don’t… want them to be in, in danger again because of me… Does, does that make sense?”

Johnny turned his head to the side of the window, in case Buster would glance back. Johnny darted his eyes in multiple directions, with the memory of his own father playing back. He raked his fingers up his thigh. His mind and face kept soft, but he felt blood pool through the knuckles on his other hand. He looked out the window to see the car pulling up to the parking lot.

“Do take care, Johnny,” Ms. Crawly told him in a gentle but more worried tone, while he scooted over to the door as the car came to a stop.

“Thank you.” Johnny faced her with a small smile, before exiting the car. He glanced over his shoulder at the departing car while he took his keys and unlocked his door. He headed over to where the truck beeped, still glancing back to where Buster was. Johnny stared at the ground, slowly opening the door.

Johnny sat down to the driver’s seat and closed the door, keys still in his hand, staring ahead into the lot. Once again, he glanced to the street where Buster and the others drove off. One of his brows furrowed, and he looked down to the driving wheel and the keyhole. He was about to let out a sigh, until he felt his phone vibrate. He reached into his other pocket and stared curiously at the contact name before answering.

“Ash?”

“Johnny, okay, look,” there was a pause, “I don’t think I’m gonna SLEEP right if I don’t figure out what’s happening… I still think this is a… huge load of weird crap… that’s, happening, right now.”

Johnny noted that her speech seemed stilted. “Uh, well,” he almost hesitated to probe, “why, why won’t you take Buster’s word for it?”

“‘Cause…!” There was a longer pause, and some breathing . “… I know he said he didn’t want us to pry, I-I get it. But we work for him… Ah-” Ash seemed to have her words trapped in her throat.

Johnny looked down for a brief moment. “He said he was gonna let us know…”

“We should be there to stick up for him!” Ash finished. “We know him, and we can’t let him do this alone.”

Johnny blinked. He bit his lip and took a moment to stare at the road. He continued to speak hesitantly, almost as if reassuring himself, “H-he’s not alone, Eddie and Ms. Crawly are with him.”

“What are they gonna do, if, if something happens to Buster?”

Johnny’s brow raised in worry, and he let out a heavy breath. “… He… Ash, he sent us home because HE wanted to protect US. So we wouldn’t… go too,” he attempted to phrase gently, “He thinks something might happen to us too if something is going on with him.”

There was a mutter in the other line. “Nothing’s gonna happen to us,” she stated. “I get that he’s worried, but I said we weren’t busy, and I think we can take care of ourselves. If there’s… something that wants to go after Buster, we should know, then WE should be the ones sticking up for HIM.”

Johnny remained silent. Holding the key to his other hand, he got closer to the wheel, and waited. Blood poured to the surface of his skin, taking Ash’s words.

“Johnny…” Ash began to instruct, “if you can, come pick me up at my place, and we’ll go the hospital ourselves to get to the bottom of this. S-sound good?”

Johnny drummed his fingers against the wheel. His eyes darted to the truck’s surroundings, and he twisted his body to view the back. No one was around. Johnny tightly furrowed his brow, and nodded to himself.

“Yes, that sounds good.” He started the car, and the engine roared. “I’ll see you there.” He hung up his phone, pulled at the gear shift, and darted out of the parking lot as quick as he could, where Ash’s apartment was located.

With a sigh, Ash waited, still sitting down at the steps of her apartment building.

* * *

 

The minivan drove up to the parking lot at the hospital, among the ambulances, the news crew, and the police sirens glowing against the trio’s vision. Buster shrunk in his seat when the car slowly approached the fluorescent-lit building, the very frame that, in the koala’s mind, displayed nothing but pain. Memories flooded over him —the last time he was called to such a place years ago. He fought the urge not to recall them, so as to not break down then and there. Once Eddie positioned himself in a parking space, he placed his own hand to Buster’s shoulder. He opened his mouth as to say something, but nothing came.

Eddie and Buster stepped out of the car. While Eddie helped Ms. Crawly out, Buster trudged toward the doors of the hospital. There stood a group of police officers, alongside journalists. Somebody had called out ‘there he is,’ and the animals immediately turned their attention to him. Buster, then soon later Eddie and Ms. Crawly stood in front of the doors, with all eyes on them.

“Mr. Moon?” The buffalo detective addressed him.

“Yep… that’s me.” Buster confirmed. While in any other occasion he would’ve flaunted those words with pizzazz, they lacked any mirth.

“Right. Please step inside.” The detective made a signal for Buster to follow him through the doors, entering the dreadful brightness. More eyes stared at the trio as they walked by, some even taking out their cellphones. Buster felt both of his shoulders being held by the other two as they were led to wing where Mike’s body lay.

As they entered, a different old car pulled up to the hospital’s parking lot.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments! ;; Given some life difficulties, I'll try to actually finish this, but I've been looking forward to this chapter...

“Are my ears failin’ me… or did you just say that Sinatra mouse is as dead as a doorknob?”

Meena’s mother quickly shot her grandfather a stern glare. Meena sat down on the couch between her mother and grandmother holding each of her arms, without making eye contact. With a handkerchief held in her trunk, Meena swallowed a lump, then resolved to look at her grandfather in the eye and nodded.

“He’s gone… yeah.”

She brought her head down again. Mother and elders looked at each other on confirming their youngest’s news. Her mother held her a little tighter, while her grandfather stepped forward.

“Oh, Meena… we are so sorry…” her mother reassured her with a somber tone. “This is such a tragedy, to lose one of your friends at the theater…”

Meena nearly recoiled. She shrunk under her mother’s grip for a second. “Uhh… He…” Her brows furrowed and looked to the ceiling. “He wasn’t really a friend.”

Grandma looked at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Meena paused. “I-I mean… he wasn’t exactly a… nice guy… he WASN’T a nice guy! At all! I-I mean… He… When he wasn’t just by himself, not talking to anyone else… He yelled at us, made f-fun of us, and… just s-said some pretty bad things. He… he never said anything ni-nice… He just, I mean, he was never a friend, like, like Rosita or, Johnny or, Ash are… Um…”

Meena’s ears folded as far as they could and her gaze remained down. All her elders stared at her during the entire explanation, without saying a word. Meena took a number of deep breaths, feeling her eyes well up again. After a period of silence, Meena spoke again.

“… B-b-but… I don’t w-want him to be... gone… like this! In spite of all of that!” She let out a soft gasp, “This didn’t n-need to happen! He… didn’t deserve that! He’s not a good person, but he didn’t deserve to die like this! If he had another chance…!” Meena stopped. Her breathing grew quick and her eyes widened. After a few moments, she let go of her tension, but felt her eyes well up again.

At that point, one of the arms holding hers shifted.

“Meena, you are… highly compassionate,” her grandmother asserted, “you have a lot of empathy and you value the lives of others, no matter how big, or how small.”

Her grandfather piped up. “So what if he was a tiny lil’ dirtbag offstage? When I was young I used to be super rude to everyone!” Meena’s mother scoffed at this. “If the world decided I should be dead then, you would not be here!”

Meena hummed. “Well… I-I think you may have actually wanted to… stomp on him, for some of the things he said…” she joked very lightly.

“Oh, you know your grandfather wouldn’t harm a whisker on some small animal,” her grandmother commented.

Meena’s grandfather mimicked a threatening look. “But he would’ve feared me!”

Meena smiled at him. Her mother tapped her shoulder. “Honey, it’s okay to feel bad that someone has died, even if they were a mean person. We know you don’t take this sort of thing lightly. Even even if you couldn’t see the good in him, you feel that this mouse had a right to live, and it shouldn’t have been taken from him so soon. You have every right to mourn for his life if that’s what you truly feel, so don’t be ashamed of that.”

Meena looked at her with a glassy stare. She darted to the other pairs eyes in the room. She looked down again and sighed. Without receiving any response, her mother embraced her again. Soon enough, her elders joined right in. Meena stood smothered, yet grateful for their embrace and understanding.

Minutes later, after a few pats on the shoulders and more assured hugs, Meena went upstairs. Her mother and grandparents likewise headed off to their rooms while Meena stepped up to take a shower. The time that the water ran, that she dried off, that she brushed her teeth, and that she put her pajamas, she heard Mike’s voice.

Her tranquility faltered, recalling not just his words by her sensitive ears, but the distinct way he said them. She especially remembered him singing, as well as his musical skill. How he believed he was the best singer amongst them, yet not even she could argue his talent. Meena quietly recalled how he was like in life, and how all of that was now gone. She blinked.

There was something else, that she didn’t tell her mother, or anyone else. She crawled to her room and left the desk lamp on, staring at the ceiling. When she sung, what did he think?

“Why did you go without saying anything?” she said her thoughts aloud, “I actually… kinda wanted to hear your opinion. Because coming from you… Did you not like it and you left in… disgust? Or…? Hm.” Meena reached out and turned off her lamp, and tried to drift to sleep. A couple of more confused tears rolled down her cheeks.

* * *

Ash stared ahead to the street before spotting a fairly large truck speeding through. She got up when the truck braked right in front of the apartment and the door was unlocked. Ash climbed into the passenger seat.

“Before you called, I thought you’d be inside by now,” Johnny commented.

Ash replied bluntly, “Well, tonight’s different.” With a click of her seatbelt and her door closed, Johnny pulled the gearshift and sped off to the hospital.

* * *

 Buster tried not to dart his eyes at the door behind Eddie. He helpfully decided to block the koala’s view of the dreaded window leading inside the room. Ms. Crawly stood behind him, providing emotional, and literal support. In front of Buster stood the buffalo detective, alongside a crocodile pathologist, and a rhino officer. As they introduced themselves, something snuck into the hallway and hid behind the legs of an unused stretcher nearby, blending in with the whitened walls of the hospital.

Faced with the much larger animals in a near-empty hallway, a stiffness ran down Buster’s spine. Moreso when the buffalo began to question him right away.

“Before we discuss the circumstances of your performer’s death, we need information regarding his prior disappearance. According to witness accounts, he has not been seen or heard from again since the singing show you have hosted. We need you tell us what you know about his involvement in your production, as you are currently our only lead.”

Buster gulped and darted at the ground. “A-alright, sure…” He took a breath through his nose. “He auditioned as a contestant on my attempt at a singing competition… You know the one. Er… Well, I didn’t really know much about him, prior? I didn’t know what he got up to on his free time. But… I thought, at the time, he sung so incredibly that I had a pretty special act for him! I mean…” He darted back at the buffalo, wearing a look that spelled out his lack of any patience regarding that sort of information.

“Was there something even remotely unusual involving him during your rehearsals?” he pressed firmly.

Buster rubbed his chin, then glanced back to Ms. Crawly. “Not that I’m very aware of… If there was something, I wasn’t there to see it…” Buster looked down at the ground. Then he suddenly gasped and widened his eyes. His mind flashed to a lot of blue, something big and frightening, and Mike’s frightening helplessness. Buster’s fearful frown deepened, and his eyes stung, recalling the memory he attempted to repress. All the animals stared at him.

“S-something DID happen!” Buster lost his composure while shouting at the detective. “My… my theater first came down…! And, and it was bears!”

“… Bears?” The detective questioned. He looked at the officer behind him. “Please elaborate, Mr. Moon.”

Buster started gesturing. “The… the, the BEARS! These… Three huge brown bears, they, they BARGED into my theater to rob me… and they had Mike! They had him in their claws! They were choking him! He was gonna die right then!” Buster brought a fist to his mouth. “… They may have come back and I didn’t…!” The detective was staring at him. Soon enough, he said his fears were said right to his face.

“Mr. Moon, are you implying that these bears may have contributed to this mouse’s disappearance?”

Oh no. Buster’s ears drooped far down, and his glassy eyes puffed up and watered more. He held his hands together and his body shook lightly. Ms. Crawly held his shoulders. “Buster…?” Eddie reached out to Buster, stepping away from the door. The detective whispered to the pathologist, and the crocodile opened the door and entered the room. Buster accidentally caught a glimpse inside the room. A curtain thankfully obscured the sight—not that this helped.

“No wonder he was gone…” Buster put two and two together while his voice began to shake. “No wonder we didn’t see him. This… I… I could’ve stopped it when I… I should’ve s-seen when I…”

“Mr. Moon,” the detective told him monotonously, “since we suspect this mouse has been involved in questionable activities outside of your knowledge, we will consider looking into this information provided. In the meantime, we will discuss—”

“Hey, what’re you doing down here?” the officer behind him spoke up. All the animals turned to what he looked at. Buster’s ears perked up, and stared in bafflement at the approaching sight.

“Ash? Johnny?”

“… ‘Ello, Buster…” Johnny gave a small wave.

“Look, we’re with him, okay?” Ash directed rather brashly to the rhino. He in turn snorted at them. Buster, Ms. Crawly, and Eddie stepped up to them, followed by the buffalo.

“What— what’re you guys doing?” Buster addressed in genuine curiosity, his voice no longer shaking.

Johnny’s eyes darted around, bringing his shoulders back forward. “Well... we came here to stick up for you. It really looked like this was troubling you… so we wanted to help you through it.”

Buster’s eyes gleamed for a moment.

“Oh, that is very kind of you two!” Ms. Crawly praised wholeheartedly. Eddie sighed in relief.

Johnny smiled. “Thank you, Ms. Crawly.”

Meanwhile, the creature from the stretcher watched the animals move past them. They made their way closer to the door, vigilant.

Buster let out a chuckle, but his ears drooped. “Ah, well… I appreciate your support, I mean, I really, REALLY do… But,” he attempted to sound a tad more stern, “I told you you didn’t… NEED to get involved.”

“Well,” Ash retorted quietly, “YOU needed some backup, because these guys were giving you a hard time, can’t even PRETEND to show sympathy. Yeah, we heard enough since we got here… Point is,” Ash’s face softened, and spoke more loudly “... we’re still here.”

Buster blinked. He processed her words, with the lyrical ability of hers that he knew. Compassionate relief spread through him, darting his eyes between Ms. Crawly, Eddie, Ash, and Johnny. His anxiety remained, but the comfort was felt, and he nodded with a small smile.

Just then, the crocodile opened the door and stepped out. All but one of the animals turned towards him, looking him in the eyes. Several of Buster’s worries came back to him as he stared expectantly to what the pathologist had to say. The stretcher immediately stirred towards the opening door. The creature easily snuck past the much larger animal.

However, an animal as short as a porcupine could spot a scurry in the floor.

Ash frowned when she saw a tail in the ground enter the room as soon as the crocodile exited. She glanced at the crocodile and the other animals paying no mind to her while the crocodile spoke something about ‘in his system’. She paid no mind to his speech in return, so she put on a poker face, and slowly made her way over to the door. Lightness in her step, but her sight focused itself on the window. She occasionally glanced back to see if Buster or any of her friends watched.

Nobody noticed the porcupine directly facing the window by then. Standing on her tiptoes, her breath fogged up the glass, obscuring her vision for a few seconds. The other creature that snuck into the room moved quickly towards the now-parted curtain. She stared through the window into the room without registering what she was seeing at first, due to a lack of movement in the metal table and sheets… something wasn’t moving under.

Ash’s eyes opened wider. Her sight adjusted to the lightened part in the strange darkness of the room. From her shorter perspective at first it seemed vague. Yet she saw it. Only one living thing was in the room. The other lay perfectly still in the table. There was some blood sticking out like a nasty stain on the white fur. Everything else was covered with a sheet. The sole living being stood next to it and brought their hands to their mouth. Next to him. Not a fake, not a practical joke, but very much real. Ash stared at the unmoving thing with a blank face that used to be the living Mike.

She let out a shaky gasp, and she tried to push herself off the door. All her muscles felt frozen and her limbs felt heavy. Like an anchor, she lifted a foot and stepped back, only to stumble backwards. That’s when the rest of her body reacted like pins and needles, and her legs couldn’t seem to carry her. She felt a tingling from her stomach to her mouth when the image burned into her vision. Ash leaned against the wall, held her stomach, and stared at the unsteady floor with widened eyes and a slack jaw, and found herself being short of breath.

“Ash?” She heard… someone. Ash blinked hard, hoping she couldn’t see it again in the darkness. She looked up and saw several pairs of eyes, and she saw the hallway right behind them. Ash breathed heavily. She. Needed to get out.

“Ash, what’s wrong?”

“UGH!” With a repulsed grunt, she bolted out the hallway. She ran past the animals, who pressed themselves against the wall to avoid her launching quills. Ash’s stomach churned more while she ran, and broke into a cold sweat. The bright lights blinded her. Everything was a spinning blur around her, and with every step she took, she felt more dizzy. She ran close to the stifling, maze-like walls of the hospital to keep her footing and her balance. Her throat dried up, and she could barely breathe. Ash gasped, desperately trying to find the exit.

Soon she made her way back to the hospital’s waiting room. From the increasing blur in her vision, she couldn’t see the eyes staring. She blinked rapidly, and felt that her legs could no longer hold her. Before she could meet the floor, Ash felt herself suddenly being held up by a hand against her stomach. She gasped sharply and almost launched her quills again, before whatever held her up moved in front of her vision.

Black fur and brown eyes. Johnny gently brought Ash on her knees, and continued to hold her.

“Ash, are you okay?!” Johnny’s eyes filled up with worry.

“uugh, it’s…” her dried throat and limited breath made her speech slurred. Johnny became a blur again, when Ash’s head spun around and her eyelids fluttered closed.

That was when she collapsed against him.


	5. Chapter 5

“Oh, damn.”

Rosita almost winced. She rarely heard her husband swear recently, likely being too tired to do it.

“Is everyone else okay?” Norman asked in a vaguely alarmed tone.

“Y-yes, they’re all okay…” Rosita stared and tapped at her charging phone while they sat on the edge of their bed. She spoke more quietly, “… Gunter didn’t take it very well. We just dropped him off at the train station, and he didn’t say anything. I don’t think I ever saw him so upset.” Rosita looked at her phone while it vibrated. “I keep sending him messages, asking him about it, wondering if he’s okay… and he just sends me sad emojis.” Rosita put the phone down and slumped. “But at least he’s responding.”

Norman looked at her. “You… said something about… ‘saying some things’, what does that mean?” he asked slowly.

Rosita tensed her shoulders. She turned to look at Norman with an uncertain look. “I was very likely one of the last people who has ever talked to him, when he was alive. Back then, I only saw him as this rude, selfish, mean, unpleasant mouse. Buster chose him for a reason, but I thought if it were up to me, I would kick him out, simply for the way he acted to everyone else. I wasn’t afraid to just show him contempt every time he showed up.”

Norman had a confused frown on his face.

“… I didn’t care about him. I thought it was best to just, disregard him. I was glad when he wasn’t around. I was happy that he left, and I wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore.” Rosita poured out her conceived immoral thoughts out to Norman, who kept staring. “But now I hear that he’s dead… that’s not what I wanted. Now…” Rosita’s ears drooped, “I can’t take anything back. In the end, I never knew him. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t, ah… consider what kind of circumstances would have happened… for him to turn out like this, but now I wish I did. Because he was crying for help.”

She held her own hands. “I remember it now. After one rehearsal, when I went out for groceries… He looked scared of something. Asking me about some bears. That should’ve tipped me off.” Rosita held her hands tighter. “Maybe if I hadn’t ignored him… if I had been more mindful, it would’ve made a difference… But I practically let him die.” Rosita felt like choking on the very words on that sentence. Her hands balled into fists, she clenched her mouth, and she blinked rapidly.

Rosita felt a tighter hold on her arm. Another hand reached her cheek, and turned her head to face Norman.

“Listen… I don’t think you could’ve… done much,” Norman held both of her arms, “You had your hands full with just about everything… and I don’t think you could’ve prevented everything, I mean… It wasn’t your fault that this happened. You didn’t KNOW he was gonna die, much less… let him.”

Rosita stared into his eyes. Norman pulled her into an embrace, which she gladly accepted. “I know you don’t want anyone to get hurt and I know you want to help people… But sometimes it’s just out of our control. You barely knew him, let alone how to help him. Doesn’t make you a bad person.”

Basking in his warmth for only a few silent minutes, while she kept her own dejection at bay the best she could. Eventually, Rosita pulled out of their embrace, so as to not start crying then and there. She and Norman looked onto each other again in wistfulness, until Rosita pressed her forehead against Norman’s.

“What do I do now?” she mumbled under her breath. “I can’t take that back now. I can’t go back.”

Norman held her hands and ran his thumb against them. He slowly comforted, “… Maybe pay respects… try to help your friends back at the theater… But you can, only do so much. Stuff can happen. Take it from me.”

Rosita said nothing while she took in Norman’s words. She leaned down to her husband’s side and rested her head on his shoulder, and he reached to run circles on her back. Rosita’s muscles relaxed at his touch and she relished in it once again. Still confused, still worried, still remorseful, yet loved all the same, from his forgiveness and his love. The two held each other in this way for an indefinite amount of time, though Rosita believed that the minutes to be two digits.

A tiny tinge in her stomach made her way up her throat once again, but she swallowed it. In spite of the comfort, the haunting still lingered somewhere. All the wondering to what she could’ve done back then… but she was nonetheless, guided back into the present for those minutes. She glanced at her surroundings and recognized her senses. Her family was still here. Her kids safely tucked into bed, away from the cruel reality. Her friends were still here. Not even Gunter went away.

Norman yawned and shifted next to her. Rosita turned her body to face him, finding a loving smile on his face, as he stroked her cheek. Their lips brushed together before Rosita felt her phone buzz again. She gently pulled away, and reached out to it.

“Is it Gunter again?” her husband asked.

Rosita almost answered, when she looked at Johnny’s name in the contact. Puzzled, she answered. “Hello? Johnny?” Rosita frowned. She listened carefully to the voice on the other line. Rosita then suddenly sprung up from the bed.

“She WHAT?!!” Rosita screamed. Norman recoiled back in utter bafflement. “Hold on!” Rosita hastily reached to her closet and pulled out a plain coat, before sprinting out of the room. “Norman!” She called out, her phone still pressed to her ear while she put on the coat.

Norman ran down right alongside her, trying to catch up. “Rosita! WH-what’s happening?” He asked anxiously.

“—okay, just put her on for me when she can.” Rosita pulled away from the phone and reached into her purse for the keys, then turned to Norman. “I need to get to the hospital.” She gave her husband a peck, then ran out of the door, leaving him standing on the doorway. “I won’t be gone long, but please make sure the kids stay asleep.”

“Alright, honey, I will,” he said with certainty, though he felt puzzled uneasiness in his gut, while he watched his wife get in the car and drive off.

Rosita put her phone in speaker and focused on carefully, yet quickly getting to the hospital, clenching her mouth in sustained worry.

* * *

“A-alright, Rosita… she looks like she’s feeling a bit better…”

Johnny looked down at Ash, slumped down in one of the seats in the waiting room with one hand over her eyes and breathing steady. Some of the hospital staff watched closely before Johnny kindly ushered them off, though some eyes still lingered on the porcupine. He gently nudged Ash, and she looked up at him with tired eyes. He was offering his phone to her.

“Rosita wants to hear from you…” he said quietly. Ash glanced at him, then glanced at the phone, before taking it. Her hand still shook.

“… hello-o?” Her voice came raspy, jittery, and silent, so she coughed.

“Ash!” Rosita exclaimed, almost breathing heavily herself, “What happened? Johnny told me you fell! Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

Ash glanced back at Johnny, who looked at her pleadingly. “… I… kinda just… I felt dizzy, and,” she mumbled, and rubbed a temple, “… I don’t-I don’t really know. But I’m okay,” she blurted out.

“Oh, Ash… How did this happen? Johnny told me you were already at the hospital when it happened! I thought you would be at your home by now.” Staring ahead at the road with almost overwhelming concern, Rosita already began a deduction.

Ash shrunk in her seat and her voice cracked. “Uhh. We… Came here, to help Buster. With the… thing.” Ash shifted to lean on her side against the back of the chair, squinting from the bright lights.

Rosita tilted her head at Ash’ less-than coherent response, and gulped. She gripped the wheel and went as fast as the speed limit would allow her. “A-alright, Ash… I’m gonna be there as soon as possible.”

“No, no… really I can, deal with it, you don’t have to…”

“I’m going to help you two in any way, no matter what. Just sit tight and calm…”

“Don’t drive all the way over here at night!” Ash blurted out again. “Not for me! Really, I-I’ll be fine, you don’t need to leave your fuh-family like this! What if it’s not worth it?” Throughout Ash’s abrupt outburst, Johnny’s senses spiked.

Rosita was taken aback. At a red light, Rosita took the time to think over Ash’s words, stared ahead with a frown. From Rosita’s lack of response, Ash clenched her mouth and shifted to her back. She quickly handed the phone back to Johnny without turning her sight to him. He slowly took the phone from her shaky hand, not taking his eyes off of her when he answered back.

“Uh…”

“Johnny?” Rosita lowered her voice, and advanced at the green light. “Can you tell me what happened?” she asked kindly.

Johnny nodded. “Well, see…”

Ash draped her arms over herself to slow down the shaking. She shifted again to look behind the chair, towards the hospital doors. Gripping the back, she let out a puff to suppress another bout of nausea. Ash once again slumped forward in her seat to calm her disturbed tracts, and turned to look at Johnny.

Even as he spoke quietly on the phone without making eye contact anymore, Ash felt her nausea subdue the more she stared. Not paying particular attention to what he was telling Rosita, she watched his fingers fidget, subtly pulling on his jacket or running them down his jeans. The tingling on her stomach went up to her chest, not in heavy pressure, but rather light comfort.

“Oh, so you’re arriving now? Alright, good, we’ll see you soon…” Johnny put the phone down and turned to her. Ash quickly looked down. The pressure on her stomach returned.

“What did you mean by ‘not worth it’?” Johnny asked gently, but concerningly.

Ash stiffened, then gripped her stomach. “I-I mean… She shouldn’t have to, to go. Out of her house. Away from her family. For, my sake. At… At night w-where it’s hard to see and…” she paused, and sit upright to face Johnny. “She shouldn’t have to risk h-her life out there for me, because I shouldn’t have COME here, Johnny! I-I didn’t c-come here just to help Buster, okay? I, I… I wanted to see for myself, if Mike was dead, because I just couldn't believe it! It’s so selfish! I did this to MYSELF…!”

“Ash…!” Johnny reached out to keep Ash from pulling quills out of her head, earning a small gasp from her. His hands slowly, carefully set her arms down, yet hesitated in pulling them away. Ash seemed frozen in place, but she steadied her breath and her shaking subsided. “I’m really sorry about all of this. You… You wanted to know. And you didn’t think it would be that bad… right?” he commented, and Ash nodded, just as Rosita herself entered the doors of the hospital in a rush and scanned the room to find the pair. “Now you didn’t want anything to happen to Rosita…”

“I don’t…” Ash wavered in the quietest voice she had mustered, “I-I-I don’t want… them-m, to… end up like, like that…” Rosita quietly approached the two teens, and slowly made her way to the empty seat next to Ash. By then, her presence was made abundant. Rosita cleared her throat and spoke to Ash gently.

“Johnny told me you guys came here on your own. And you actually got to see Mike…” Ash flinched, and Johnny stepped closer. No escape this time. “Could you… tell us why you panicked like this…?”

Ash glowered. “Yeah. You guys know what I saw. I think it should be OBVIOUS to you that I wouldn’t exactly be OKAY with seeing that!” she spat out, before taking a deep breath. “… That wasn’t Mike, okay?” Ash raised one knee to her face, resting her foot on the seat. “That w-was just a b-body. That wasn’t HIM. That is NOT the guy that stood n-next to me and was still walking and talking and making faces and nothing was wrong and then… ALL of that is gone!”

Ash started gasping lightly and swallowing, the nausea returning to her body with more force. She brought her other knee up. “I didn’t know him, but e-everything that made this guy HIM, who he is… now all that’s there now is a s-shell! He, he, he HAD a life! Now it’s just nothing. He’s NEVER going back and that body is NEVER gonna be HIM ag-gain! He WAS a singer. He w-was someone… Now all that’s left is a body… Just like everyone else who used to be alive but then-n…” Ash put her hands over her face as she choked on her words, then let out a wavering sigh. “Yeah… ‘goth girl’ is scared of corpses,” she joked mirthlessly.

“Scared of others dying…” Johnny whispered, looking at Rosita’s downward stance. In a few moments, Rosita placed a hand onto Ash’s shoulder. Ash took her palms out of her face and looked directly to the light, revealing more sunken eyes.

“Ash… I’m sorry this happened. I thought something happened to you, when Johnny called me… and I was right.” Rosita gave Ash’s shoulder small rubs. “You don’t have to feel ashamed for being afraid.”

Ash frowned. “But I made you come all the way here for nothing, and you…”

“THIS is hardly ‘nothing,’ Ash. I told you I would come to help you two no matter what. Please know that I’m okay. That I won’t end up dead as well, if that’s what you’re afraid of. Don’t ever think I won’t be there for you.”

Ash’s eyes shifted, feeling Rosita’s comforting hand warm against her shoulder. Her breath steadied, if only temporarily. Before she could thank her, Ash promptly shook her head. “That’s not all, even. We came here to help Buster, but now his stress is worse. Why the hell didn’t I listen to him, he was clearly looking out for us and he was just as scared of anything happening, but then I just threw that out of the window…” Ash said those last words in a mocking tone towards herself.

“We’ll sort this out,” Johnny assured, bending even closer, “don’t beat yourself up for it, we’ll explain it to him once all—” he squinted for a moment at something walking from the hospital hallways towards them.

“Ms. Crawly!” he called. Ash and Rosita promptly looked at her direction.

“Hello, you three!” she greeted charmingly, but brief, in that she immediately stopped smiling.

“What is it?” Johnny questioned worryingly. “Something wrong with Buster?”

“Um,” Ms. Crawly asked sheepishly,

“Did you guys know Mike had a girlfriend?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feels a bit shorter, but that's because the next one is where things really start coming to a head.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... well. My deepest apologies for not updating this in over a year. 2017 was an extremely rough year for me, and I was experiencing some writer’s block with this chapter in particular. You kinda lose motivation to continue writing such a depressing subject matter, even when it feels kinda important.

The sight of Ash’s frightened bolt down the hall put Buster on edge, even more than before. Peeking across the wall to their direction, his worries only slightly subsided after Johnny went after her. Just as he was about to wonder why they ran, Eddie, Ms. Crawly, and the mortician ran to the open the door of the room… that Mike was in. Buster swallowed, and made his way back to the door. He saw something he didn’t expect.

“Miss,” the detective addressed, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave this room immediately.”

A female mouse stood firm against the door frame. Though she wore a modest blue dress, a dark blue pea coat, and some purple high-heels, her disheveled appearance in her fur and face was less-than presentable. With reddened eyes, the mouse glared up at the detective, hands balled into fists.

“ **I** was his girlfriend!” the mouse confessed, “I deserve to see him!”

With that statement, Buster’s heart nearly tore out from his body. His and Eddie's mouths spelled out exclaims in disbelief, while Ms. Crawly let out silent gasps. Her good eye seemed to well up in tears and her arms shook. A knot tied itself on Buster’s throat, and without thinking, he stepped forward.

“Excuse me, miss…?” he asked in a soft voice as it began to waver. “You're…. you’re, Mike’s girlfriend you say…? Be-Because he used to work for me, um…” he extended a hand, but retracted when the mouse glared at him as well. She did not say a word. Buster gulped and stated quietly, though he couldn’t force the wavering to stop. “I’m so sorry about all of this.” 

The mouse blinked. Her face twitched under its own iciness. She took a deep breath and looked back at the detective. The mouse pulled something from her pocket and handed out a folded piece of paper. “I think THIS is what you’re really looking for. In return, I want to talk to Mr. Moon… alone.”

With that word, Buster felt a shiver run down his spine. He looked at Eddie and Ms. Crawly with ears drooped. The detective leered at the mouse, unfolding the paper to find an address written on it. After reading it, he kept the paper to his hoof, let out a huff through his nostrils, and stepped out of Nancy’s way.

The mouse shot the buffalo another venomous glare. She then stomped further down the hall away from the group of indifferent investigators. Even with her size, Buster felt the weight of her steps, in addition to her stiff shoulders and drooped ears. Once more, Buster looked back at Eddie and Ms. Crawly as the two went back up to the waiting room. Eddie stalled back to look at Buster again, while Buster took a steady breath. Soon, he followed the mouse with hunched shoulders.

The two stopped at a far off corner of the hall, where the droning LED lights above them still invaded their vision. Without the presence of authority, the mouse allowed her body to slump. Buster could detect the smallest of exasperated whimpers, before they became strained breaths through her nose. He didn’t say a single word until the mouse spoke herself.

“My name is Nancy,” she stated with a low voice, “... and as I said, I’m… was Mike’s girlfriend.” The second time Buster heard it wasn’t much better. He remained silent while looking at the solemn mouse. He wouldn’t even attempt to offer any more condolences; she’d be numb to them by now.

“Mr. Moon…” Nancy said, “I suppose you’re… wondering certain things.”

Buster nodded and hummed. “So… I guess you know Mike better than me…?” Buster watched Nancy’s brow furrow more. “I-I guess I… want to know what's been happening with him, because I-I-I didn’t know—” Nancy let out a disgusted grunt and tilted her head dismissively. Buster groaned silently. “No, no… I really don’t know what happened. He disappeared out of the blue that night, of, of our big show, and he never said anything and he never mentioned  _ you _ . All-all I know is that… some, some bears were angry at him and trying to kill him…”

Nancy let out an even louder groan. “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s NOT THAT!” she claimed in a jaded tone, “It wasn’t the bears. THEY didn’t kill him. But what happened that night… they DID take him, and they were going to kill him right there. But I got there in time.  _ I _ saved his life!”

Buster’s heart paced and his body shook again. “Wait-wait… you’re uh, you’re saying…  _ he was kidnapped?! _ ” Buster was certain he’d suffer a heart attack by this point.

Nancy began to explain. “Yes… but I helped him. We escaped together in our car and I was driving… and then I turned around a-and one of those  _ damn _ bears grabbed the back of the car. He almost killed us, but I shook him off. That’s when we hid way later…” Nancy caught her breath.

Buster gulped and fidgeted, taking in all the new information spilled out of Nancy’s mouth. “So… you, you said… What you’re saying is that… That what happened… wasn’t these bears’ fault…?” he shyly asked.

Nancy shook her head. “I just told you that. I made sure those bears weren’t gonna be a problem anymore. We made a plan to throw them off our trail. I wrote an address to a hotel all the way to Chicago, so they’d think we were heading there. We hid the car, and we… emptied our apartments to make it convincing. So they… Fell for it, and they left. If those cops were smart, they’d go there and catch them at that address now.” Nancy pointed to the hall at the investigators. “… But we stayed here. We never left this city…” her voice dropped into a bitter tone, “… maybe if we did, he'd still be here.”

Buster instinctively opened and clenched his fists. “I…” he uttered, “Look I… I don’t know, listen… I’m sorry to ask, but I don’t know how he died…”

“Of course you don’t,” Nancy responded dryly. “They didn’t tell you.” Nancy paused again to swallow a lump in her throat. “… This wasn’t  _ just _ an accident, Moon. It wasn’t just by chance… and to be honest… I should’ve seen it coming.” Her breath wavered as Buster felt a lump in his own throat as her words shook him to his core, his mind suddenly clouded with letters spelling:  _ Mike couldn’t have…?! _ Nancy continued to explain.

“We… we were happy. We were safe, and we were ready to start a new life together. Or at least work it out. He was ready to start singing again to get money, because everyone knew who he was that night. He was ready to get famous soon… but, not even a week later, he started getting… bills, letters… reminding him of things he couldn’t afford with money he didn’t have.”

_ Because it was all a lie. _ Buster shuddered a gasp at the consequence of his mistake.

“I thought nothing of it. I thought Mike could pay it off in no time and I had a job too so I could help… but I noticed something. He changed. He was so different now. He was scared before, but now everything was stressing him out. He was more angry. I could barely talk to him. I tried to encourage him, but he snapped at me and he wouldn’t go outside anymore like he was trying to hide in a hole. He was… a mouse.”

Nancy’s voice began to shake again, “H-he said something about… being done for. He talked like he was regretting some of the things he did? I was… shocked, and asked him how long has he been feeling like that, b-because it felt as if, he was bottling it up for, for years or something…? I, I, I don’t know… I didn’t know what his life was like before meeting him, but he was… pouring all this stuff on me. I didn’t know what to do. And… I didn’t think it would be that bad. I sold the car recently, and his suit… but the car was so scratched and beaten and the suit was slobbered, and they came down one third of the prize. Still, I thought it helped. He was quieter, he seemed calmer, so I just… assumed that e-everything was… fine.”

Buster remained still, putting his hand over his stomach. Nancy’s ears drooped, and they remained that way even while she blinked rapidly and her voice got deeper. “T-then-then something hap-happened today.” Nancy attempted to control her breath. “I was coming home from work at the jewelry shop. Mike was just sitting there in front of the tv… Then he looked at me, at first with these ‘blank’ eyes but then he got calm, and told me he needed to go out for a couple of hours… Yeah. Hugs and kisses, and then he leaves…” she let out a weary sigh. Her voice sounded casual, yet mirthless, “so… like I said, I didn’t think much of it.”

Nancy suddenly seemed to nearly hyperventilate. “H-he, h-h-he didn’t come back by the evening… I was g-getting worried. I-I-I went out to look for him…” she struggled to explain, “I h-had to go to the bar he liked… there were so many animals there. I couldn’t see anything, all I could see was the ambulance and the police… I c-could hear them talking. They said things about shards of glass…

_ “ _ They said a  _ bottle _ fell on him.”

With those words, Nancy had dropped the bombshell. Having finally gotten a reason, neither Nancy or Buster felt like they could breathe. With a heavy heart, Buster prepared himself to accept the information, while Nancy struggled to breathe again.

After a few moments, Buster’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Wait…” he asked quietly, “you know a lot more about what happened… why didn’t the police call you instead?”

Nancy breathed deeply, and swallowed. “I don’t know. They made you come all the way here, and you didn’t know anything.” Nancy looked away. “They didn’t think to check- to see if there was someone else who knew him and had m-more information…” Nancy’s face twisted. “They came to you… because you were in charge of him. They want to use YOUR name.”

Buster’s spine chilled again.

“They want this to sell newspapers. The fact that Mike was in Buster Moon’s show,” Nancy mocked. “The police are in it, the press is in it, they want to make the next money-making scandal.” Nancy soon began to shake. “They don’t care that some…  ordinary c-common mouse died. No one cares that mice die h-here because we’re too small to notice! Mike was in YOUR show, so NOW his death is a big deal! YOUR show, your… circus act, was the only reason anyone noticed! When o-otherwise, he’d be just another dead mouse in some bar floor!!”

Buster gaped in utter shock at Nancy’s bitter, pained rant. He watched her breathe heavily again, looking away from him. Buster found himself involuntarily staring ahead, towards the blinding hospital hall where all the police stood and the door to where Mike’s body lay, as he took in Nancy’s words. His fidgeted with the cuffs on his coat, his own throat tightening stronger than before.

“Nancy, I…” Buster tried to reassure, but Nancy abruptly sprinted away from him back down the hallway and into the dreaded door, outside the protests of the authorities. Buster walked quickly as she ran. “Wait! Mike was-!”

“Just save it, Mr. Moon. Your job’s to entertain, I don’t think you’d make this any better.”

Buster stepped back, confused and stricken. Nancy disappeared again behind the door, to continue clinging to the body that was once Mike.

Buster mindlessly walked through the hospital halls, moving past the investigators who were never getting any more answers from him. He stared at his feet rather than forward. Disjointed emotions and thoughts ran through his head and his eyes began to fill up with tears. Buster allowed himself to sink in the responsibility. With his disgusting lie, with his cold indifference for him after… he may as well have killed the mouse. He finally let a tear roll down.

He stopped dead in his tracks. His body threatened to collapse in pouring sobs. He’d felt the pain in the voices of everyone who reacted to Mike’s demise. He slowly saw how their own empathy and compassion overrode any sense of displeasure with the mouse’s behavior. They instead saw a fellow artist and a life taken too soon. The showman responsible for giving him the spotlight had failed to protect him…

Buster slowly lifted his head and looked forward. He wiped the tears rolling down his cheeks. He remembered everything about Mike. He wasn’t just another dead mouse. Because Buster bellowed his name. Buster knew others recalled the mouse with an angelic voice they heard months ago. They remembered who he was.

If that too had to be Buster’s responsibility, then…

Similar to one of his grand entrances, Buster burst through the waiting room. His now determined face gave no indication of the grief he experienced just minutes ago, but his eyes remained flushed. No overblown theatrics; just seriousness. His friends and colleagues all looked at him. Buster looked at them as if they’d just received more bad news, as they appeared even more troubled than before. Rosita looked even more agitated, and Ash had her hand gripping one of Johnny’s fingers. He felt a sense of comfort with most of his companions sitting there together.

“You guys know?” He asked in a low tone. They all nodded.

Buster sighed. “Alright. I think I know what I need to do about this. If you guys would like to join me… by request, feel free to. Though I’d really appreciate it if you did.” His voice almost cracked. “I’ll say it again; you can all go home for tonight. I’m not gonna treat this the way I… usually do.”

He pulled out his phone.

“I’m gonna make something right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter than I originally intended... especially since it apparently took over a year to finish. Ghhhhck. I brainstormed a bit too hard on this one. I’m gonna try to finish this, because now I think I got the story back on track. I’m still trying not to make it wayyy too bleak.
> 
> Edit: I also had to fix a minor continuity error in Chapter 3. The last sentence originally said “a battered sports car”, which doesn’t make sense now that Nancy sold said sports car.


End file.
